The Third Kit
by Mooncloud881
Summary: .:by Boru:. Bluestar told Fireheart that her third kit died with her by the river...but did the third kit really die or is it closer to Fireheart than he thinks? [Complete]


**If you noticed, I haven't added to my other story in a while. Hopefully, I'll write more of that soon but Twilight kinda mixed me up so yeah…but anyway, this story is a twist that I had in my mind for a while. I know this did not happen in the real books nor will it ever and for many different reasons too, but I kinda had it on my mind for a long time and thought it would be cool if it were true. If you don't like my idea of the twist, then please don't flame! This story is supposed to have just one chapter but hmm...who knows? I might decide to add more chapters later. I have not had a time to read it over and correct any spelling mistakes yet so go easy on me!**

The blue-gray she-cat watched her mate cross the river. The tiny kit in his mouth was mewling pathetically, twisting and squirming around in a desperate attempt to get away from this strange cat and back to the warmth of its mother. On the other side of the bank, sat a second kit, who shivered in the cold of leaf-bare and let out a few whimpering cries of fits own. As her mate reached the other side of the river and placed the second kit next to the first one, the blue-gray she-cat tore her eyes away from them and instead looked directly down at her paws where a third kit lay.

Its pelt was a reddish brown, similar to her mate's, unlike her other two kits who had the same blue-gray fur as her. Only the kit's pelt was a brighter ginger, but at the same time it looked a little dull. Infact, it had been looking dull for days. He was the last one born to her litter and he was also the runt. He was much too small and very weak. He hardly even moved as he lay in front of her in the cold, wet snow. He didn't make any sound either, and his breathing was rather shallow, which worried her.

She was so focused on her third kit that she didn't even hear the pawsteps of the RiverClan warrior coming up to her. The warmth of his tongue over hear ear made her feel a little bit better, but she couldn't stop worrying about her last kit, and wondering if she made the right choice of giving them up to RiverClan.

"Bluefur," The reddish brown tabby warrior meowed. She could barely even hear him. "Are you okay?" After getting no response, he meowed soothingly, "Don't worry. They'll be safe in RiverClan. I promise you that." Without waiting for an answer from the she-cat, he bent his head to sniff the final kit. Bluefur could swear she heard him mutter "_he's so small!_" under his breath as he examined the tiny ginger bundle. Nevertheless, he began to pick his son up by the scruff and prepared himself to cross the river once again until he saw his mate's ears flatten and her neck fur raise. Bluefur narrowed her eyes at him and gave a hiss as the tiny kit opened its jaws to cry out in protest but instantly closed them again, unable to waist any more energy in its current condition. The RiverClan warrior put the kit back down and looked up at the she-cat with his head tilted to one side, deeply puzzled.

"Bluefur?" He meowed slowly. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want you to take this one, Oakheart." She forced herself to meet her mate's gaze while trying not shiver at the thought of losing her kits, hoping that he would understand what she was trying to say. Oakheart only stared back, his eyes two pools of confusion.

"It's okay," He meowed, pressing his muzzle into hers. "I told you I'll look after them. I'll make sure they—"

"No. You don't understand." The ThunderClan she-cat looked down at the ginger kit and sighed. "He's too small…too weak. He'll never make it through leaf-bare whether he's in ThunderClan or RiverClan." Oakheart just stared at her. Finally, he lashed his tail out in frustration, not understanding what she was suggesting.

"Well what are we supposed to do then?" He hissed. "Wait here until he dies?" He looked his mate straight in the eye, hoping for some kind of answer or idea that could help them avoid having to loose one of their kits. To his relief and shock, his mate did have an answer.

"If he lives out here where there is cold and hunger and disease he'll never survive." She seemed as though she was staring straight through him as she spoke, as if carefully thinking this through. "He needs some place warm, with tons of food…some place he'll be safe from disease. Some place _soft._" She focused her eyes on the kit and then on Oakheart, whose head was spinning trying to follow along with what she was saying. As far as he knew, there was no place in the whole forest that sounded as warm and welcoming as that. "I need to bring him to Twolegplace." Bluefur mewed at last.

"Twolegplace!" Oakheart gasped in disbelief. "You mean...give him to Twolegs? To raise as a kittypet?" As he watched Bluefur nodded her head slowly he couldn't help thinking his mate was crazy.

"He'll be safe there. The Twolegs have ways of curing their kittypets that not even our medicine-cats know of. They'll make him stronger." She watched her son's chest rise and fall ever so slowly as she spoke.

"But Bluefur!" The RiverClan warrior cried. He still couldn't believe what his mate was saying. "Think about it. Our son—a clanborn cat—living the life of a _kittypet_!" He spat out the word as if it was a piece of crowfood. "Do you really want that?"

Bluefur's cold blue eyes pierced his fur. "If it's the only thing that will keep him alive… then yes." Oakheart stared at her for a long moment. Neither cat spoke a word. Both parents gazed down at the tiny hopeless kit that hardly moved in the snow, just a lump of dark ginger fur against all the white. Across the lake, the other two kits, who were much larger and healthier, cried loudly for some company and warmth. _I need to get back to them, _Oakheart thought. Reluctantly he bowed his head to the ThunderClan queen.

"As you wish, Bluefur. I'll take the other two back to my camp where they'll be raised as loyal RiverClan warriors." With a last glance toward the ginger kit he added with a flick of his tail, "and you shall take him to Twolegplace."

Bluefur's whickers twitched happily. "Thank you, Oakheart." She pressed her flank against his own as if to say good-bye and with a last glance towards the other side of the bank where her other two kits sat waiting, she bent down and picked up the weak, little kitten. Oakheart meowed his good-bye before turning and retreating into RiverClan territory. By the time he made it across the river to where his two healthier blue-gray kits were restlessly wriggling in the snow, Bluefur had only just gotten up and ready to leave with the third kit, watching her mate and two older kits disappear into RiverClan territory before heading off to Twolegplace.

As Oakheart trudged through the snow with his only daughter hanging safely from his jaws and his oldest son struggling to keep up with the much larger warrior, he couldn't keep thinking about his poor, unhealthy son. He remembered how tiny it was compared to his other two kits, and how terrible it had looked with its dull, ruffled ginger fur. _Perhaps Bluefur was right_,he thought to himself, _maybe Twolegplace is the best choice for him_.

----

The she-cat sat up straight on the fence that outlined the edges of her garden before bending her head to groom her long white and brown fur. It was getting pretty late, and soon her housefolk would call her inside for the night. Her newly born kits were safetly tucked away in the nice, cozy bed inside her housefolk's nest and, even though she enjoyed some alone time, she would have to get back to them soon.

She stopped grooming herself and looked straight into the forest that was right behind her housefolk's garden. The dark figures of tall trees swayed in the wind and creaked loudly from time to time. In the morning, the forest looked peaceful and almost happy that sometimes she would wish she could just escape from her housecat life and live in the forest herself. But at night, everything was different, especially during this cold, harsh season. The trees were all bare, everything seemed cold and dead. At this time of night, the last place in the world that she would want to be was the forest. She shivered at the thought of it. Could cats really live in there even during spooky, freezing nights like this?

Growing up in a place so close to the forest, she heard many stories from other housecats about sightings of some strange "Wildcats" that seemed to guard the forest and chase any housecat out who was daring enough to hunt there. However, she, like most cats, thought that the stories were just simply…stories; made up fairy tales that were only suppose to scare little kittens to keep them from running off into the forest. Tonight, however, she thought she could just change her mind about believing all those stories were false when she saw something move in the underbrush of the forest floor right outside her garden. Moments later, a blue-gray head appeared, and dangling from its jaws was a tiny reddish ball of fur.

She gasped when she realized what it was. A kit! She had recently giving birth to her own litter, and now new how important kits where to their mother. What was this she-cat doing here in the middle of this cold, dark night carrying a kit around? She watched the unfamiliar blue-gray she-cat look all around as if searching for help. In the background, she heard her housefolk call her name, ready to go to bed for the night. She signed, and knowing she should leave the other she-cat alone and go take care of her own kits, she decided to leave and head in for the night. However, before she was able to jump down off the fence and into her housefolk's garden, the blue-gray stranger caught her eye.

She was staring straight out her, and for a few heartbeats both the queens just looked at each other in silence. Finally, the forest cat took a couple steps forward. The housecat narrowed her eyes. What did this strange cat want with her? Not wanting to find out, she turned and bolted into her garden and ran towards the door of her housefolk's nest. The pounding of pawsteps behind her told her that the forest cat had broken into a dash in its attempts to follow her.

"Wait!" The she-cat shouted out through the mouthful of kit. The housecat finally slowed down and turned around, its neck fur raised in caution. If this really was one of those wildcats she heard about, she would have to be careful. They normally weren't too friendly with cats who lived with housefolk. The blue-gray she cat put her kits down in front of her gently and, panting, looked up at the long haired brown-and-white she-cat with relief flooding her deep blue eyes. "You need to help me." She gasped, still panting hard. The housecat stared at her in wonder. They hadn't run all that far, so surely she couldn't be that tired out. She wondered if the blue-gray she-cat was worried about something, which was why she was panting so hard.

"Who are you?" She meowed, her eyes narrowing. "And why do you need me to help you?"

"My name is Bluefur." The unfamiliar queen mewed. "And… I know this might sound weird, but I need you to take my kit." She flicked her tail at the scrap of red fur that lay in the soft, white snow. The housecat's eyes stretched wide.

"What?" She gasped, unable to speak. Why was this strange cat—Bluewhatever—trying to give away her kit to her? Was it diseased? Was this some kind of sick joke? "I don't understand." She meowed, trying to gather her thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain." Bluefur meowed quickly. It was easy to tell she was in a desperate hurry. "But I can't keep this kit…" her voice trailed away and then she met the housecat's eye. "If this kit grows up in the forest he'll die." Her voice shook as she spoke. "You can understand that can't you?" She meowed desperately.

"Yes but…" The brown and white she-cat hesitated. This cat—and her kit—were in trouble and definitely needed help. She looked down at the tiny ginger kit. His breathing was very shallow, she noticed, he looked so _thin! _She knew that he needed medical attention that only one of her housefolk could possibly give. A trip to the vets would do him good and possibly keep him alive. But would Bluefur really be willing to give her son up to a housecat like her? She shook her head, the thought of giving up one of her kits made a shiver run down her spine.

"Please, you must do this for me." Bluefur said with hope glowing in her eyes. She bent down to sniff her kit, making sure he was still breathing. "He needs a warm home and milk." Pity overcame the housecat and she stared at the mother and kit with sadness in her eyes.

"I guess I could take him." She meowed quietly. "My housefolk could cure him, and until then he can sleep in my nest with my own kits. He won't be lonely. He—" She could tell the blue-gray queen was hardly listening to her. She kept flicking her head back and forth as if half expecting something to be lurking in one of the bushes of the garden.

"Thank you so much!" Bluefur purred in delight. "I know he will be well cared for." She bent her head to give the kit a few warm, motherly licks before backing away. "Farewell, my son. I'm sorry. If there was anyway I could have kept you, then I would have." The housecat didn't understand what this forest cat was talking about, but she watched respectively as the she-cat gave her son one final good-bye and nearly drowned him in a series of licks. "I must go." She meowed after a while. "My clan will be wondering where I am."

"Wait! Don't you want to—" The brown and white she-cat began, but it was too late. With one final glance at her son, the forest cat took off and within a few heartbeats she was gone. The housecat stared after her in shock before turning to the tiny red kit. She sniffed him a few times. _It's for the better, _she told herself, _I must take care of him…for Bluefur. _She snatched up the kit carefully in her jaws and brought him inside through the flap in her housefolk's door. Warmth met her on the inside. Even though there weren't many lights on in the house since her housefolk had gone to bed, she padded down the hallway with ease. She darted up one flight of stairs with the ginger kit squirming in her jaws. For the first time she heard him mew. _He must be feeling better now that he's inside a nice warm house, _She thought, and for the first time since she had laid eyes on the poor helpless kit, she felt a surge of hope. Maybe he can survive!

Stepping lightly into a dimly lit room, she wasted no time padding over to a soft silky bed, made from some odd, cozy housefolk material. In one corner of it four kittens were huddled. There were two tom-kits and two she-kits. Each of them looked just like her—long haired brown-and-white kits. Each looked like a large puffball compared to the short-haired ginger kit she was holding in her jaws. She placed him next to her own kits and watched him curl up next to them, purring quietly as he nestled into the bed next to a pretty brown-and-white she-kit. She couldn't help but notice his flame-colored pelt sticking out against the bundle of brown and white fur. _Will he ever fit in? _She thought desperately. Even worse, what if he was rejected by all the other housecats—or even her own Twolegs? She shook her head. No, she wouldn't let anyone know where the kit had really come from. She'd tell everyone it was hers—just like the rest of them.

"But you look so out of place with your fur, the color of _rust. _Will you realize how different you are from the rest?" She mewed silently under her breath. She watched as the ginger kit began purring repeatedly as he began to drift off to sleep, using the brown-and-white she-kit's shoulder as a pillow. The long-haired mother twitched her whiskers in amusement. Something told her he would fit in just fine, even though she didn't exactly know how. _It could just be me, but he looks better already! _

**Yep, that's it. If you couldn't guess…the ginger kit is Rusty (Firepaw/heart/star) duh obviously… It was something that was on my mind for a while even thought I know it's never going to happen in the real Warrior books. I just thought it was weird how Fireheart looked nothing like his sister Princess, or how her son, Cloudtail, also looked nothing like him. And his daughter, Leafpool, didn't look like him or Sandstorm. But her description kinda (not exactly but kinda) matched that of Oakheart's. (for anyone who doesn't know the first book described Oakheart as: a reddish brown tabby tom) I don't think it mentioned his eye color. I also thought it was weird how Bluestar randomly mentioned that she had a third kit who "died". I don't know I just thought it was kind of suspicious...even though I know that Fireheart was not really that third kit. I just always thought it was kinda cool if he was. That's all. Please don't flame me! **


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